My Gift To You
by ceridwen-amyed
Summary: It's Aladdin and Jasmine's fourth wedding anniversary, and Aladdin's having trouble finding the perfect present...


****

Disclaimer: Aladdin, Jasmine and the whole gang belong to Disney. "Your Song" belongs to Elton John. Various other lyrics belong to their respective writers/singers.

Thanks to Lisa for the super-quick beta job on this one. :)

Dedicated to the AML, on the occasion of our fourth anniversary: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! Let's hope there are many more to come… :D

My Gift To You

~ By ~

Christine

It was a fine evening. The sunset coloured the sand around Agrabah into a burnished gold and the stall-holders in the Marketplace began to pack up their wares for the day. A traveller stood in the Marketplace's centre, gazing at the lights in the houses surrounding him. He had heard many stories about Agrabah: strange things happened there, it was said. Princesses married whomever they choose; a street rat was to be Sultan. Disaster upon disaster seemed to rain down on the people's heads: landslides, malevolent sorcerers, magical beasts and even wilder things, the stuff that stories and legends are made of. Yet the people were said to remain cheerful in the face of these disasters. The traveller had met several Agrabahnians on his journeys, and whenever he had asked why they did not leave this dangerous city, they always spoke of the princess, her fiancé and a strange groups of creatures (one of whom was rumoured to be a spirit of some kind). The traveller had long desired to see this magical city and at last he was here. And yet, something was clearly wrong. The air was thick with melancholy. The people's faces were thin and worried looking. Candles were lit in practically every window. What on earth was going on?

"Tell me," he asked a nearby merchant, "why does every house have a candle burning in its window? Is Agrabah celebrating a festival of light?"

The merchant shook his head sorrowfully and heaved a heavy crate from his stall to the ground. "Sadly, no. Our Sultan – may Allah save his soul! – is ill. He has been for sometime. His people pray for his recovery."

"How awful!" cried the traveller. "Do you suppose that he will get better?"

The merchant shrugged and pulled down the cloth awning from his stall. "_Maktub_," he said.

* * *

The sorrow of the people of Agrabah was but a dull reflection of the sadness in the Palace. It was usually a quiet place – most large places are – but it had been deathly silent the last few months. The servants slid about as quietly as shadows; the general hustle and bustle that could occasionally be seen in the throne room was dimmed and hushed. If the people in the city were whispering their prayers to Allah for a peaceful recovery, the people inside the Palace were breathing them. Their prayers were constantly muttered: from the servant's quarters to the throne room. All that could be heard was whispers of hope and sadness. 

Except in one room; a small forgotten corner of the Royal Wing, near to the Prince and Princess' chambers. Aladdin, Abu, Genie and the long absent Iago sat huddled in one corner, looking for all the world as though they were planning a new adventure.

"Anyone else," grumbled Iago, "would buy flowers or jewellery on their fourth wedding anniversary. But no, you have to be all _mushy_ and _romantic_."

"It's not about romance, Iago," began the young prince of Agrabah. "It's about-" 

"It's not?" asked the blue genie, floating a few feet above everyone's heads. "Then why don't you buy Jasmine something nice from the Marketplace? Ooh, I saw the prettiest dress there! Jasmine would love it-"

"Genie," interrupted Aladdin, "I want to get Jasmine something that means something. She's been so sad lately…" He trailed off sadly. Abu made a little sympathetic cluck with his tongue and climbed onto his friend's shoulder.

"How's the Sultan doing today, Al?" asked Genie tentatively.

"A little better," replied Aladdin, "but everyone's still concerned. Jasmine's worried out of her mind – she didn't get a wink of sleep last night…" He sighed in frustration and fell backwards onto the cushions. Abu leapt onto Genie's shoulder as he fell. "I just want to do something special for her… Anyone can go to the Marketplace and buy her a pretty dress, or a necklace, or anything she wants."

"And only you," cut in Iago, "can write her a song. How _lovely_." He ruffled his feathers and then winced. Iago's left wing had been injured during some sort of treasure raid (he'd been very vague on how the injury had actually occurred – he had said something about pyramids, and rolling boulders, and cannibals, but refused to enlighten anybody on these tantalising titbits) he'd been on with Cassim. He'd arrived in the middle of the night a few days ago, frightening the wits out of Abu, who had assumed that he was some kind of feathery assassin and promptly knocked him out using one of Jasmine's heavier pieces of jewellery. As a result, the poor bird had bandages across his wing and head and was in a particularly sour mood with the monkey. Aladdin had been glad to see Iago – a part of him had missed the bird's acerbic tongue – but he had been more than a little disappointed that his father had not arrived back with Iago. _Still_, he thought, philosophically, _you can't have everything_. Besides, there were so many other things to worry about… Especially Jasmine. Aladdin looked moodily out the window. 

The Sultan had been ill for almost two weeks now, and there was no sign that he was getting any better. They'd sent for all the doctors in the kingdom, and it seemed that none of them could do anything. The illness had to be left to run its own course, they said. Unfortunately, its course didn't seem to be a very happy one. Aladdin was very worried for the Sultan, of course, but Jasmine occupied his thoughts more. She was so concerned with her father; Aladdin hadn't seen her smile for what seemed like an eternity. He missed that smile. He missed hearing her laugh, the way her dark eyes always sparkled at him. He missed _her_.

He'd decided to do something special for their fourth wedding anniversary. He'd already bought Jasmine one gift: some earrings she'd admired in the Marketplace a few months back. They were quite different to the usual style she wore: little circles of gold, with a tiny gem inside of each one. Aladdin wasn't sure whether they were precious gems or not; he couldn't even work out what colour they really were. But Jasmine had liked them, so he supposed that it didn't really matter. But he wanted to do something else for her: something very special.

He'd spent hours talking with the guys about what else he should get her and somehow, they had managed to reach the conclusion that he should write a song for her. A special song. And that was when Aladdin had discovered something that had been plaguing songwriters and poets for years: Writer's Block. 

"This shouldn't be such a problem!" Aladdin burst out suddenly, glaring down at the piece of paper and quill he clutched in his hand. "I've sung to her before…" _But I've never had to sit down and plan it… _he thought a little miserably. Time was running out: the anniversary was tomorrow.

"Look," said Iago in the tone of an expert, "what exactly are you trying to say to her? You can't write something unless you know what you're writing about."

"That kinda made sense," said Genie, scratching his head thoughtfully.

"I guess," said Aladdin slowly, "that I'm trying to say that I'll always be there for her-"

"I've got it!" cried Genie, snapping his fingers. There was a tiny _poof_ and then there were two genies; one dressed in a red dress, red hair cascading down his (or should it be her?) back, the other wearing a grey scarf and a brown hat perched on his head. "_Come what may_," sang the two Genies, "_I will love you, till my dying day_!" Abu let out an excited squeak and Genie morphed back to his usual self. "Hmm," he said, "I guess you're right – it is a little _too_ morbid in the present circumstances…"

"Why don't you talk about her plumage?" suggested Iago. "Thundra loves it when I talk about how great her plumage is!"

"Iago," said Aladdin patiently, "maybe it escaped your notice, but Jasmine is _not_ a bird."

"Talk about her hair then. Trust me, girls love it when you talk about hair."

"I've never heard Jasmine talk about her hair before," said Aladdin, tapping the point of his quill against his chin thoughtfully. "The only person who ever talked about her hair was Prince Wazoo-"

"And look at what happened to him!" exclaimed Genie. "Hey, did you hear that he apparently banned all tigers from his kingdom? And then some of his subjects brought some into the palace gardens and he ran into-"

"Genie," said Aladdin firmly.

"Sorry, Al," said Genie meekly. He perked up a little. "What about her eyes?"

"What about her eyes?" asked Aladdin, bewilderedly.

"Well, you like them, don't you?"

"Well, yes but-"

"So," interrupted Genie. "Talk about her eyes!" He cleared his throat and started singing in a strange, nasal voice. "_Bright eyes! Burning like fire! B-rrrrrrrrright eyes_!" 

"Stop it!" squawked Iago, covering his ears. Abu chattered in agreement. 

"I don't know if I really want to sing about her eyes, Genie," said Aladdin, patting his friend's arm. "But thanks anyway."

"So what do you want to sing about?" asked Iago irritably. "Love?" He said the word sarcastically, batting his eyelids and managing to pucker his beak up, although Aladdin was sure that birds couldn't normally do that. _Iago isn't exactly a normal bird though, _he reminded himself.

"Well," he said out loud, "actually, yeah. I think I do."

Iago and Abu exchanged a look, whilst Genie again snapped his fingers. "What about '_Love lifts us up where we belong_'?"

"No, no, no – you need something simple: '_I will always love you'_ "

"What is it Carpet?" asked Aladdin as the Magic Carpet, who had been lying quietly by the window, leapt into the air. He performed a strange series of twists and turns in the air. "Huh?" The Carpet drooped in exasperation and then swooped down to pick up Abu. He took Abu's paws in his tassels and waltzed the chattering monkey through the air.

"Oh, good thinking Rug man!" cried Genie. At Aladdin's bewildered expression, he added: "You need something you can have a nice, romantic dance to."

"That's a good idea," said Aladdin thoughtfully, before scribbling down the word "Dance" on his sheet of paper and underlining it several times.

"_I just want to dance the night away_?" suggested Iago.

"You do?" cried Genie. "Oh Iago, you should have said something sooner!" 

"Hey, no, wait, I didn't mean-" The parrot screeched as Genie swept him up, dressed in a beautiful ball gown. Iago's bandages were replaced by what looked like an ill-fitting tux. The sound of an orchestra playing a tango filled the room along with Iago and Abu's protests.

"Guys," said Aladdin, waving his hands above his head to try and get some attention. "Hey – guys!"

"What about," said Genie as he whirled past, "_I was lost, but then I found you_?"

"Or," added Iago as Genie did a graceful little pirouette, "_I have never felt like this_?"

"_For once I'm lost for words_," interjected Genie.

"That's pretty good," said Aladdin hastily scribbling the words down.

"Hey, not bad Bird-man!" said Genie. "We could be the next Ashman and Menken! Or should that be the first?" he added thoughtfully.

"I don't know, and I don't care!" shouted Iago, "_Just let me go_!"

"Alright then," said Genie. "Spoilsport," he added under his breath. He let go of Iago, midway through a graceful spin, sending the bird soaring out of the window with a screech. "Oops. My bad," sighed Genie before darting out of the window after Iago, closely followed by Carpet and Abu.

"Guys, wait!" cried Aladdin, leaping over the cushions to the window. He leaned out and saw them all streaking to the ground. Sighing, he looked at the paper he held in his hand for a moment. He appreciated his friend's efforts to try to help him, but at the same time, he felt that this was something he had to do by himself. Folding the paper up neatly and tucking it into his sash, he left the room and hurried out of the Palace. He needed to get this song written and fast. For that he needed peace and quiet, and there was only one place in the whole of Agrabah where he knew he could get that… 

* * *

The view from Aladdin's old hovel had hardly changed since he had first shown it to Jasmine. Agrabah had remained largely the same in all that time: the Palace still dominated its skyline. It was especially beautiful at sunset, the houses and the desert complementing each other with shades of red and yellow. But Aladdin was not in the mood to appreciate any of these things. He glared down at what he had written so far. 

"It's ridiculous," he said out loud, "I can't even read my own handwriting!" Writing had never been Aladdin's strong point – living the first 17 years of your life on the street hardly made for ideal writing conditions, but he'd always been able to get by. But now his handwriting seemed to be the most irritating thing he'd ever seen. It was so untidy and messy… He sighed, longing to be able to write smoothly and cleanly. Aladdin had often listened to the bards who sometimes came wandering through the Marketplace, whipping out stories and songs out of thin air. They always made it look so easy.

__

I've faced monsters, dark sorcerers, evil incarnate and more, he thought, _and I've always come out of it the winner. And yet I can't write a song about what I feel about my wife_. 

"Oh, it's useless!" he groaned finally, throwing the piece of paper onto the roof beside him. "I'll just have to get something for her tomorrow-"

"Hey kid. How's it going?" asked a bright voice behind him.

"Not good, Genie," sighed Aladdin, turning to face his friend sadly. "I just can't do it…"

Genie smiled and sat down next to him. "Sure you can, Al. You've faced monsters, dark sorcerers-"

"I know!" said Aladdin, standing up and kicking loose a small plant that had managed to take root on the roof . "Maybe Mozenrath should have asked me to write a song: that would have finished me off." 

Genie regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "Seems to me," he said finally, "that you're approaching this from entirely the wrong angle."

Aladdin looked up in surprise. "The wrong angle?"

"Remember what I told you when you were pretending to be Prince Ali?" Genie sighed at Aladdin's blank expression, before turning himself into a bee and buzzing close to Aladdin's ear. "Bee yourself!"

"But I am being myself!" protested Aladdin as Genie changed back to himself. "I'm not pretending to be a prince, or anything like that."

"No," said Genie gently, "but you're trying to be a poet, or a songwriter. And you're neither of those, Al-"

"I know," said Aladdin sourly. "I didn't need someone to point that out to me." He kicked the small plant again: this time it was sent soaring over the side of the roof.

"Exactly!" cried Genie, poking Aladdin's chest lightly. "You're not a poet or a songwriter, so stop trying to write like one! Jasmine's the type of girl who knows what she wants, right?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"Then if she wanted a poet or a songwriter for a husband," interrupted Genie, "she would have married one." Aladdin was silent, staring out at the city at his feet. Genie placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you remember how it felt when you first met her?" Aladdin gazed towards the Marketplace and after a moment, a gentle smile touched his lips.

"Yeah," he said softly and laughed. "It feels like barely any time has passed… And yet I can't really remember what life was like before her…" He trailed off, suddenly lost in his memories: the first time he had seen Jasmine's dark brown eyes, her smile. The first time he had touched her, smelt her perfume…

Genie smiled at his friend. "Just write about that, Al. Write from your heart." He turned to go.

"Hey Genie!" called Aladdin, turning back to face his friend, suddenly struck at how very old and wise Genie could be. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget, with all of Genie's shape-changing, wise-cracking ways, that he was tens of thousands years old_. Even when I'm gone - when all my children are gone – he'll still be here…_ He shivered, despite the warm evening sun.

"Yeah, Al?" 

Aladdin shook himself from his melancholy thoughts and grinned at his friend. "Thanks."

Genie saluted. "No problem," he grinned back before soaring back to the Palace. Aladdin watched him go and then sat down again, picking up the paper he had discarded earlier. He looked again towards the Marketplace, trying to recall exactly how it had felt to see Jasmine for the first time… how it had felt to kiss her for the first time… He smiled and started to write.

* * * 

"Psst, Al. Hey! Al!"

"What?" hissed Aladdin, straightening his shirt nervously. He was sitting in one of the Palace's many dining rooms, waiting for Jasmine to arrive for their anniversary dinner. He peered underneath the tablecloth and saw Iago, Abu and Genie (in the shape of a mouse) crouched under the table, grinning at him. "What are you doing under there?" he demanded

"Did you finish it?" squeaked Genie eagerly, ignoring Aladdin's question. "The song?"

"Yes," whispered back Aladdin. "Well, most of it: I haven't quite nailed one of the verses-"

"Isn't that leaving it a bit late?" hissed Iago.

"I'll improvise-"

"Aladdin?"

Aladdin stood up so quickly he very nearly tripped over the cushions behind him. He glared at the table (or rather, what was underneath the table) and then looked up at Jasmine. He smiled at the sight of her. The gown she wore was simple; the top fitted her perfectly, her shoulders bare and her tiny feet barely visible underneath the flare of the skirt. It was the same turquoise as her favourite outfit, but she didn't need any fancy gowns or any of the other astonishing accessories Aladdin had seen some princesses wear. _But then again_, he thought to himself_, she could wear a sack and still look as radiant as a sunset._

"Jasmine," he said, rushing to her side and kissing her hand. "Happy anniversary. You look beautiful," he added.

She smiled a little sadly at him. "You look very handsome. Although," she added, eyeing his bare head, "You didn't wear the turban that the tailor made for that outfit."

"It was too big," said Aladdin promptly and Jasmine laughed softly. It was like music to Aladdin's ears.

"You say that about all your turbans," she said with a fond smile.

"It's true!" protested Aladdin, helping her to sit down. "My head's a strange shape…" She laughed again at that, and Aladdin felt his heart rise: maybe tonight really _would_ take Jasmine's mind off her father.

But as dinner progressed, Aladdin realised that this would not be the case. True, they did talk and laugh and smile (very frequently, as it happened) at each other, but there were too many times when Aladdin heard her sigh, or see her gaze down at her food, or out of the window with a preoccupied expression on her face. Once he even caught her biting her lip, the way she did when she didn't want to cry. Aladdin looked down at his food and felt his chest tighten. It wasn't _fair_. This was supposed to be a special moment, a time when they could forget about Palace pressures and just enjoy each other's company. He couldn't blame Jasmine for worrying about her father: Allah knew how many prayers Aladdin had made for the old man… But he wanted tonight to be about them, just them. Nobody else. They hardly seemed to spend any real quality time together these days…

Aladdin had only just finished his food when Jasmine got up and came to sit next to him. She smiled at him and then reached under the cushions he was sitting on. Aladdin jumped in surprise.

"I know what Abu and Iago are like when they're together," she explained, pulling a long package out from the cushions. "They'd have found this a long time ago and given it to you." Aladdin laughed at how well she knew the two animals. He heard a small "humph" from beneath the table, where his friends were still hiding. _Serves them right for eavesdropping,_ he thought.

Jasmine hesitated and then handed it to Aladdin. It was surprisingly heavy. "Aladdin… I'm sorry for the way things have been recently-"

"Sorry?" asked Aladdin, placing his present in his lap carefully. Jasmine looked at him, her eyes a little teary.

"Yes. I haven't been my usual self-"

"Jasmine, you have nothing to be sorry for-"

"-and you've been wonderful throughout all of this," she continued, as though he hadn't spoken. "I just…" She stopped. "I don't want him to die, Aladdin," she whispered finally.

Aladdin took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "He won't," he said. "Allah will protect him."

Jasmine nodded. "I know. But that doesn't stop me worrying-" She broke off and looked down at their entwined hands. She let out a tiny sniff and Aladdin did the only thing he could thing of doing: he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead gently. "It's okay," she said in a muffled voice. "I just-"

"I know," whispered Aladdin softly. He held her tightly for a moment and then Jasmine pulled away, wiping her eyes delicately with her hand.

"I don't want to cry about my father tonight," she said with a small forced laugh. She grabbed his hand and kissed it compulsively. "I want tonight to be about us."

Aladdin smiled at her lovingly and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "As you wish, my princess," he whispered.

Jasmine smiled back. "Well, go on then!" she said, gesturing towards the package that lay in Aladdin's lap. "Open it!" Aladdin grinned and tore the wrapper off; he'd always been a little impatient when it came to gifts.

"Oh," he whispered, when the last of the paper had been torn off. "Jasmine, it's beautiful…" It was no wonder that the package had been heavy for its size: Jasmine had found the most beautiful scabbard Aladdin had ever seen. It was a polished black, with an intricate design of swordsmen slaying magical-looking beasts, sorcerers calling forth spirits, and… Aladdin squinted. Was that a little boy rubbing a lamp? Aladdin ran one finger across the length of it.

"I thought you might like it," said Jasmine. "I saw the lamp, and well…" She laughed. "I couldn't help but think of you! Besides, that old sword of yours has spent far too long at the back of a drawer: now you can put it on the wall, or something."

Aladdin grinned and kissed her lightly. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Jasmine smiled at him, the first real smile he'd seen for days. Aladdin smiled back. "Oh!" he said suddenly, "I've got something…for you… somewhere."

"Well?" asked Jasmine, looking amused as Aladdin patted his pockets and sash, a look of horror dawning on his face.

"Um… I think I left your present back in the bedroom…"

"Oh, never mind," said Jasmine, getting to her feet. "I wanted to look out on the balcony anyway… See the moon… Besides," she added, looking at Aladdin mischievously out of the corner of her eye. "At least you actually remembered this anniversary!" 

Aladdin groaned as he got to his feet. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?" 

Jasmine looked thoughtful. "As I recall, the Scourge of the Desert very nearly _didn't_ let you!" Aladdin joined in with her laughter as they headed back to their chamber, all the way mentally kicking himself for forgetting her present. 

When they reached the bedroom, Jasmine headed straight out onto the balcony, wrapping a light shawl around herself as she left. Aladdin quickly dug around at the bottom of the large jar he'd hidden the earrings in and tucked them into his sash. He turned to the balcony and hesitated at the doors, staring at Jasmine. The lights from the room cast her into a strange shadow, half-lit, half in darkness, and her back was to him…. And yet, she looked more beautiful then anything he'd ever seen before. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes.

"Please Allah," he whispered, "let me remember all the words. Help me write another verse. Help me-"

"Aladdin?" He opened his eyes and saw that Jasmine was gazing at him curiously. "Are you all right?"

He nodded a little grimly. "Fine! Just fine…" _Don't be nervous, she loves you, even if you do totally screw this up- _Clapping a lid on that particularly unhelpful voice, Aladdin walked to Jasmine. She smiled encouragingly at him: it was obvious that she could tell that he was nervous about something.

"Well?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Well," said Aladdin slowly, "I've got your present." He patted his sash hurriedly. "But I just wanted to say something before…" He cleared his throat. "Before I give it to you. It's part of your present actually," he confessed. "And it's probably not very good, but, well, I wanted to show you how much I love you, and everything's just been so-"

"Aladdin," said Jasmine, touching his right arm firmly. "Take a deep breath." Aladdin stared down at her hand on his arm and nodded. 

"Yeah," he said softly, "I guess that would be a good idea…" There was a short silence.

__

This is when you're supposed to start singing, he thought.

Silence.

__

Of course, it would help if you remembered the tune.

Then, miraculously, the sound of a gentle melody swept through the night air. Jasmine looked around in surprise.

"Where's that music coming from?" she asked in surprise.

__

Thank you Genie, he thought, suddenly intensely grateful that he had hummed the melody to Genie the night before.

"It's a little bit funny," he sang softly, "this feeling inside." Jasmine looked at him, her eyes wide in surprise. "I'm not one of those who can easily hide." Aladdin felt his heart swell with happiness as he saw Jasmine's expression turn to one of delight as she realised what he was doing.

"I don't have much money," he continued, feeling a little bit less nervous. "But, boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live!" He gestured towards the Palace and Jasmine laughed.

"Is the palace not big enough for you, then?" she asked teasingly. Aladdin grinned back and shook his head.

"If I were a sculptor… But then again, no," he added hastily, seeing the expression of distaste on Jasmine's face, "Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show." He paused to take breath, delighting in the tender smile on her face, the same smile she'd had when giving him the scabbard. He looked away from her, remembering the gift. "I know it's not much," he sang softly, "but it's the best I can do." He felt a hand caress his face and looked up, seeing Jasmine smile at him. It was all the encouragement he needed. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "My gift is my song, and this one's for you."

"Oh, Aladdin…" Jasmine murmured softly.

"And you can tell everybody," Aladdin continued, motioning out to the whole city, "this is your song. It may be quite simple but," he shrugged somewhat ruefully, "now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…" He took both of Jasmine's hands in his own and looked at them, at the way they fit so perfectly in his own. He smiled and gazed into her eyes. "How wonderful life is," he sang in a low voice, "while you're in the world."

Jasmine smiled back mistily at him. "Oh, Aladdin," she began, "how did you-" He silenced her by placing one finger against her lips.

"I sat on the roof." He nodded in the general direction of his old hovel. "And I kicked off the moss. Well," he laughed, "a few of the verses… they got me quite cross." Jasmine laughed again. "But the sun's been quite kind, while I wrote this song." He caressed her cheek gently and sighed almost wistfully. "It's for people like you that keeps it turned on." Jasmine placed her hand over his on her cheek and gazed at him lovingly. Aladdin smiled back and was suddenly aware that this was the point when he hadn't actually managed to write anything for…

His heart started pounding very fast and very hard. _Now what?_ His mind screamed. And then, quite suddenly, he remembered the earrings he had tucked in his sash. He reached down and pulled the little box out, words suddenly occurring to him as if by magic.

"So excuse me forgetting," he began, holding the box out to Jasmine. "But these things I do…" He grinned with relief as Jasmine opened the box and gasped when she saw its contents. She smiled at him widely and then quickly pulled her own earrings out and started to put the new ones on. "You see I've forgotten," continued Aladdin, eyeing the tiny jewel in the centre of the earrings, "if they're green or they're blue." He paused, gazing back at the woman in front of him, pleased to note that the earrings looked very pretty and delicate on her. She gazed back at him, her expression soft and gentle. Aladdin felt his heart melt, and wondered what on earth he could ever have done to deserve to be standing here, right now, singing to the woman he loved more than anything in the world. He could think of nothing better.

He shook himself. "Anyway, the thing is… What I really mean…" He looked into her eyes, and was entranced. Those eyes could say in a second what would take a thousand years to say out loud. He remembered all the times throughout the years when he'd felt that everything was getting too much, that he couldn't cope. All he'd had to do was look into her eyes and see the answer, or find the courage to go on. He wanted to say all that to her, but there could never be enough time in all the world to describe how much it meant to him. Instead he took her up her hands and kissed them. "Yours are the sweetest eyes," he sang, "I've ever seen!" 

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he had taken Jasmine in his arms and was spinning her around. She laughed loudly, and it was if the rest of the world had floated away, and they were high above it, soaring past the domes of the Palace, the stars singing the song he had written for Jasmine. After a moment, Aladdin realised that that was in fact, precisely what was happening: Carpet had managed to sneak underneath their feet and was floating up into the night sky, the two of them still dancing. Jasmine cried out in delight as Aladdin grinned and bent her over his arm: she could see all of Agrabah beneath them, like some twinkling fairy city: for a moment, the couple forgot just why all those candles were burning.

Carpet landed lightly on the highest dome in the Palace and Aladdin pulled Jasmine down onto it with him.

"And you can tell everybody, this is your song," he sang, breaking away from her, and leaping onto a spike that protruded from the dome's centre. He leaned back, staring at the night sky. "It may be quite simple but now that it's done." He looked back at Jasmine and saw the moonlight reflect off her skin, and the stars shine in her eyes. And suddenly, he remembered very, very clearly exactly how it felt to look into those eyes for the first time.

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind," he sang quietly, leaping down lightly and walking towards his wife. "That I put down in words… How wonderful life is, when you're in the world." Jasmine seized hold of his hands and held them tightly.

"I hope you don't mind," she whispered, "I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…"

"How wonderful life is," Aladdin sang with her, their faces very close together, "when you're in the world…" They trailed off as their lips met in a kiss of perfect passion, perfect tenderness, and perfect love. Aladdin cupped Jasmine's face and sighed happily to himself. 

"Aladdin," she murmured, opening her eyes very slowly. "That was the most wonderful present anyone's ever given me…"

"I'm glad," he whispered back, hearing his voice crack without really knowing why. "Happy anniversary, Jasmine," he whispered, leaning towards her again.

"Happy anniversary, Aladdin," she murmured against his lips as he kissed her again, the stars twinkling brightly above them and the city of Agrabah glowing at their feet.

* * * 

Unbeknownst to the lovers, who were still high on the large dome, a small figure was watching them from a large window in the palace. The figure smiled and sighed to himself as they soared and danced against a backdrop of the desert sky. The door to the room he was in opened and a female voice cried out.

"Your highness!" gasped the servant girl, "You're awake!"

The Sultan turned to her and blinked in dim lamp light of the room. "Yes, it seems that way, doesn't it?" he said cheerfully.

"But… are you feeling… all right?" The girl became more nervous as the initial shock wore off, and she realised just who she was talking to.

"Perfectly well, my dear," said the Sultan brightly. "Never better in fact."

"I'll go—I'll get the doctor," she said and then bolted from the room. The Sultan could hear her shouting to the guards that the Sultan was awake. He chuckled to himself and then turned back to the window. He couldn't really see the dome where his daughter and son-in-law were standing, singing, dancing and kissing but he knew they were there nonetheless. He smiled a little wistfully. 

"Well now," he murmured, "isn't that nice?"

* * *


End file.
